NaNoWriMo 2015

It's that time of year again. NaNoWriMo is upon us! 

When the clock ticked over to November the 1st, people from all over the world embarked upon the exciting (and at times arduous) quest of writing 50,000 words in 30 days.

This is my 4th time participating in the event.  I find NaNoWriMo to be the perfect motivation to get new novels started or existing ones finished. My full drafts usually end up being between 80- 120, 000 words, and at least 50,000 of those words are written during NaNoWriMo.

If you would like to know more about this fan-dangled-fun-dangily NaNoWriMo thing and what it stands for, then check out http://nanowrimo.org.

Even better (in a fit of spastic spontaneity) why don’t you sign up? Join us! 

 Joooin Usssss!

Now here’s some Lemons (unrelated)…

So if you have always wanted to give writing a go and enjoy challenges that have the potential to eat your soul? And yeah those plot bunnies can be mighty fierce sometimes. Ye-ouch!

I’m not selling this very well am I? Nope...

Hey I gotta be honest it’s hard reaching to that 50K, sometimes you have to frigging bleed those words from your raw finger-stubs... and yeah, some of those words will definitely suck (I’m talking from personal experience).

That being said, all you need to do is write 1666 words a day for 30 days. That doesn’t sound too bad does it? All you need is some general idea for a story and the rest should come.

Nothing coming to you? Hey if you don’t know what to write about or how to start there are plenty of story prompt generators out there.

Here’s a few links that might be fun/ or useful.

Need a Plot? How about adopting one from here! http://nanowrimo.org/forums/adoption-society

If you're stuck and need an item, a motto, a planet, or a fancy drink check out...http://chaoticshiny.com/ It's oh so fun— If you are looking for something really wacky, this is definitely the place to go.

http://writingexercises.co.uk/plotgenerator.php The plot generator here gave me some interesting results and the good thing about it is that you can re-roll certain elements until you find something that works.

Most importantly don't worry about getting it perfect first time (that just doesn't happen). NaNo is designed so you get that story, or at least part of the story out of your head and onto paper. The revision and editing comes later (or as my case much later). This first draft  (in the words of the wonderful Terry Pratchett) is basically just you telling yourself the story.

And that’s my little NaNo chat for 2015. Have a great November, and if you are partaking in the NaNo madness may many-a-word be with you.

Join usssss...

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Gearing up for Nano 2014

Here we go ... NaNoWriMo is almost here, otherwise known as National Novel Writing Month. Only a week to go! 
If you are not familiar, Nano is that yearly event where you are tasked with writing 50,000 words in 30 days. I've done it two years running and won both times -- but not without making a splendid mess, naturally. 
(Whispers) "it's OK first drafts are almost always terrible". 
I'm planing to continue with my Liberty (A Fragile empire) rewrite which is sitting at 50,130 words, I'm pretty certain I have another 50,000 words in it.
Here's what I have been working on... Yes the excerpt is rather first drafty and stuff, but heck, I had a tonne of fun writing it. Yes, Nano's a blast! Check it out, maybe even try it! http://nanowrimo.org/dashboard

So, the excerpt below is from the first half, which I wrote during Camp NaNoWriMo. I'm looking forward to tackling the second half from November 1st, and hopefully by 30th November I'll be writing those wonderful words -- THE END. Then I'll have yet another first draft to clean up ... uh yeah, well...

Anyway, that aside, here's the excerpt from The fragile Empire.

 (Excerpt chapter 4) 

Ash cleared his throat, “Um, I could come back.”

“You’ve seen me practically naked now, no backsies from that, you might as well stay.”

Stay, that word definitely had a pervy undertone to it, Fleura. Are you hitting on him now?

She heard him chuckle. It was a deep sexy sound, like a purr from a motherfucking big cat. She turned clutching the front of her towel and looked at him speculatively. He looked nice, clean cut, his blond hair tufting up in long messy spikes of fun, thrown this way and that to give him a designer bed head, She gulped. His tee was classic black, with some retro design and white tube pants with grey trim. They made his legs look long, his hips narrow and his chest, just right, not broad but neither slim. Lean and trim, perfect. Her mind flew ahead of her, wrapping itself around him and throwing him into bed.

“So, get dressed, there’s something I wanted to show you,” he said breaking the spell with a genuine smile and a light conversational tone. All undertones of tension fizzled.

Fleura snapped back to friend zone reality with a cold hard thump. Her hand clutched the towel around her a little tighter. She turned and gathered some clothes — any clothes! The word idiot revolved around inside her head in garish neon red as she slid back into the bathroom cubby, frustration burning beneath her skin. Damn it.

Less than 5 minutes. Body fully covered, Face lightly painted, hair blown dry, she stalked back out into her room, feeling less than peppy. She had dressed in tights and a Mondrianesque tunic — tight geometric fun. She stepped into her one pair of pretty boots. As the faux swede adjusted, shrinking around her feet and legs, she looked up at him, expectant.

He turned toward the door with a smile and she followed. He took her straight to the sliptube. She looked at it dubiously as he silently gestured for her to enter, a small annoyingly secretive smile on his lips. 

“Where are we going?” She asked. 

“Wait and see,” came the cryptic reply.

 In most circumstances she would begin to lose patience with this sort of behavior, but he was too damn intriguing to let go now. Intelligent, rebellious, chivalrous, charming — her internal perfecto meter spazzed glowingly. He took out a small cold colored metallic card and slipped it into a slot beneath the floor buttons. The doors hissed shut and then suddenly Mr Perfection blurred before her. It felt as if her stomach had dropped into the soles of her too-expensive boots. She grabbed at the closest thing, him, and hung pathetically off his arm until she gained some still-wobbly equilibrium.

He patted her hand reassuringly. She gave him a sheepish smile and disentangled herself, explaining “I wasn’t quite ready for that.”

He replied with that small chuckle, and a smile that reached his blue, oh-so-blue eyes.

She looked past him and out the transparent door. The dark blur suddenly disappeared and her gaze plummeted into a sea of stars. Her breath shuddered, as her brain — caught in a spiral of awe-panic — tried to work out whether inhaling or exhaling was more appropriate in the circumstance.